Dixon sighed. Experience had taught Brady that he was looking at a Dixon who was five, maybe ten, minutes away from being passed out on his bed. Despite a lax night, they’d spent an extra hour after closing cleaning in preparation.

Brady wasn’t far behind in the exhausted department. He’d had a hell of a day himself.

“Well, fancy tampon selection aside, we really need to nail this party. I’m glad Sloane hooked us up for it. Maybe we can win back some of our patrons.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Dixon headed to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and was asleep with his bedroom door open and lights still on before Brady could even drink half a glass of water. Some would think of him as a mess, but his cousin was really just a man who lived his life with tunnel-vision focus.

He loved Cassidy’s Place, just as his dad did, and just as their grandfather had before them. His day-to-day was spent much like Brady’s. He went to the bar, worked at the bar, and then worried about the bar. Everything else? Well, it fell by the wayside more often than not. It was one of the reasons Dixon moving in after the breakup hadn’t been the worst idea.

It was easier to feel reassured that he’d made all the right decisions when it came to his dedication to the bar by splitting the rent with someone who felt the same way.

Felicity hadn’t understood why Brady didn’t dream bigger, but Dixon? He knew that the bar was bigger than any dream.

It was family.

Brady smiled at his cousin now and turned the lights off and shut the door. He emptied his glass and did his nighttime routine in the bathroom on reflex. It wasn’t until he was lights out in his own bed that the highlights of the day played like a movie in his head.

Or really, just the one.

Sloane pressed against him. Warm, small, and absolutely delicious.

Being surprised by the woman was starting to become a normal occurrence. He hadn’t seen the kiss coming, and he hadn’t expected his body to react to her as quickly as it had.

There he was, ready to do whatever she would let him without a second thought.

But then, like almost all good moments, it was ruined by an interruption.

Callum.

As far as pains in the ass went, though, Callum rated low on the totem pole in Arbor Bay. Brady had seen him a few times at the bar, but they’d never really talked. In the kitchen, after Sloane had all but fled, he’d fallen into an easy and quick conversation with the man. It had been enough to make Brady like him—or, at least, not dislike him. There was a relaxed quality about him, even if Brady couldn’t quite grasp his and Sloane’s relationship.